31. Jude
Jude
Kasey passed her coffee cake around the table, and I loaded a slice onto my plate, right beside the pumpkin pie Wells had brought. I poured some cider caramel over both desserts, and it wasn’t just because Harlow had made it.
Yeah, I wanted to show her how much she was appreciated, but I think she already knew that after Grandpa and Kasey had not so subtly been sneaking a few spoonfuls before dinner. She’d done a great job with it.
Some deep down part of me loved eating something I knew she’d spent time making, too. It was only damped by the fact that she’d been forced to cook in that dingy kitchen. That damn apartment was going to get gutted and redone as soon as Harlow would let me.
Probably when she moves out.
The thought clouded my mind as conversation around the table continued.
It was another reminder that Harlow wasn’t here to stay.
In a few short weeks I wouldn’t see her on my porch every morning or chat with her in my truck on the way to work.
There certainly wouldn’t be any more nights where I found her flustered and needy in her doorway either.
No matter how much I might want her to stay.
I couldn’t believe it, after how distrustful I’d been when she’d arrived. I’d grown to love Harlow being here in Autumn Creek.
I should have listened to what she said. Just this once. I could force my mind to keep repeating that phrase all day, but it didn’t mean I actually believed it. Nothing was out of my system.
I didn’t want to back pedal with her. I wanted more.
I had found myself following her laughter across the room all day, and getting lost in the sound of her voice. It was pathetic really, how much I was thinking about her. But seeing her as a part of Autumn Creek and my family unlocked something possessive inside of me.
Maybe it had been there all along.
I wanted her at my dinner table every night. I wanted to see her around my farm, wearing that Autumn Creek sweatshirt she’d worn when I first claimed her lips. Fuck it, I didn’t want her in that tired apartment—under my roof wasn’t good enough anymore. I wanted her in my bed.
If she was staying, it would be so easy.
A shoulder nudged me, and a spiced vanilla scent crowded my thoughts.
“Apple pie?” I took the tray from Harlow’s hands. I was getting full, but there was no way I was saying no to the dessert my grandparents had baked together. So I took a slice and before passing it on.
Soon there were only crumbs left on plates. Wells and I cleared up, insisting everyone else should relax. We even shoved Colt down by the shoulders as he tried to join us—he was hosting, after all.
I washed and Wells dried, as Kasey pulled out a deck of cards for everyone else. She organized a few rounds of crazy eights, before Grandpa insisted on rummy—which he, of course, won.
Although my hands were busy, my eyes were transfixed. Seeing Harlow sit around the table with everyone warmed my heart. She threw her head back into a laugh that brightened the room, and grinned as she complimented Gran’s mulled cider. She even had inside jokes with Kasey, my cousin.
Maybe I could try my best to convince her to stay. But I knew that tying someone down wasn’t the same as them choosing to be there. I shouldn’t get attached, I knew it would rip my heart out.
“You really like her, don’t you?” Wells asked quietly.
I swallowed tightly and shrugged. It wasn’t a lie, maybe more of an omission. I was overwhelmed, filled with an emotion I didn’t know how to describe. She was right there in front of me but just out of reach.
“Is there something going on between—”
“No. There’s nothing there.” My jaw clenched.
“Do you want—”
I cut him off again. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I can’t.”
He nodded firmly, and we let the conversation fade away, watching the game unfold in front of us.
Hours later, after more card games and a few rounds of not-so-terrible charades, Grandpa fell asleep on the couch, and I spied Harlow yawning for the third time.
“I think it’s time to go home,” I announced, standing up. I pulled Colt into a hug. “Thanks for hosting, man.”
I went around the room, saying goodbye to everyone and making sure to grab the hand-carved wooden bowls my grandpa had given me. Then I got to Harlow. “You coming?”
She nodded with a slow, tired blink, and I reached out a hand to help her up.
We stepped out into the night air together and our exhaustion seemed to stay in the fire warmed room behind us. Harlow was shivering despite the coat she wore.
We walked down the stairs, but then another quiver moved through her body. So, I backtracked and stole a blanket from Colt’s porch.
“Here.” I wrapped the fabric around her as I caught up.
“Y-you don’t need to do that.” She eyed the woolly plaid suspiciously. “This isn’t even yours.”
Even in the darkness, I could see the grin she was trying to hold back.
I took her hand in mine, pulling her forward. It wasn’t warm enough, so I kept it firmly in my grasp as we walked by the Golden Russet trees.
“Did you have a good time?” My eyes raked over her, taking in how fucking adorable she was, wrapped in all of those layers.
And I spied the throw pillow covers my grandma had obviously given to her.
Gran had tried to tell me I’d needed to warm up my home more, and I’d always shrugged her off, but somehow I didn’t mind her and Harlow conspiring together. It was endearing.
“Mm-hmm. I’m stuffed, though. Maybe a bit tipsy, too.”
“Yeah, that mulled cider creeps up on you.” I’d had a few glasses myself, but I was well acquainted with Gran’s cider by now. “Don’t worry, though, we’re nearly home. I’ll make sure you get there safely.”
“Home.” She hummed the word softly. I almost didn’t catch her saying it.
“Yeah?”
“Well, it’s your home.”
I shrugged. “You live there, too.”
Her eyes narrowed at the ground as she said, “Home isn’t necessarily where you live. It’s something you’re a part of. Where you belong.”
I wanted to say “you belong here” because how could she not see it? But I was enjoying Harlow Spencer’s cider-filled thoughts, so I kept my mouth shut.
“Like you.” She poked my side. “You belong here. Undoubtedly. You are Autumn Creek, Jude.”
My words caught in my throat. It was nice hearing her say that. The town was such a big part of me, but I’d worked hard to make it that way. I gave back what it had given to me, and I was glad it had paid off.
I was lucky too. Plenty of people were born in a place and ended up hating it, or at least felt indifferent about it. But Autumn Creek was magical. Not everyone liked living in a small town. Yet, for me, it was a fortunate match.
“Maybe you think that because you met me here. You associate me with the town,” I replied as she walked by my side. “I don’t disagree with you. But just because I’m born and raised here, doesn’t mean it’s my place. It takes effort to make somewhere feel like home. Like Dawn, she fits in here?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, she’s not from here.”
“I think I remember her mentioning that,” Harlow replied softly.
“She made her own connections and set up her life here. This town, and every place, is just a product of years and years of people making it their own.”
She stayed quiet for a minute or so until the house came into view and we turned toward it. “So, you think it’s what, bias? I meet someone somewhere and I assume they must fit in.”
“Maybe. Or they’ve already put in the effort to make a space for themselves. I don’t know if it’s friendships or routines that make a place feel like home, but everyone feels out of place at some point. Sometimes you have to carve the space you want to fit into.”
“Did you?” she asked, her feet planting on the dirt road, stopping us in our tracks.
“When my dad changed things around here, I felt so lost. My home became a stranger. I’d been working on some other farms in the area, yet I always had Bramley Farm to come back to. But after his ownership, I didn’t recognize the place I’d known so well.”
She nodded pensively before turning her face to the stars. I followed her gaze. The clear night sky was common around here, but tonight I felt like I was seeing it through a new lens.
Finally, her chocolate eyes landed back on me. “I need to go where my career takes me. But maybe I would enjoy a place like this being my home. What you said is…interesting.” A smile formed on her lips. “Maybe one day I could end up here.”
I matched her smile as I stared down at her. “I’d like that a lot.” More words tumbled out of me. “Obviously, make the decision for you, not for me. But I’d selfishly love it if you stayed.”
She scoffed. “You’re egotistical, Bramley. Of course I’ll do what’s right for me.” Then she shot me a wink.
My eyes rolled and I tugged her hand, pulling her toward the house. “Let’s get inside, it’s cold.” She followed me up the stairs to the porch, and she eyed the entrance to her apartment carefully. So I offered a suggestion. “It might be warmer in my place.”
“Have you got something planned? Is that why you’re trying to get me inside?” She giggled, raising her brows at me.
“When I have you, Harlow, you won’t be half asleep and tipsy. You’ll be fully present and begging for it.”
“When?” She smirked.
I leaned against the banister instead of responding. I shouldn’t keep speaking without a filter. It was dangerous. Here she was talking about how she had to follow her own path, and I was getting closer and closer to dropping to my knees and pleading with her to stay.
I didn’t want anything casual, especially not with her. And I couldn’t leave this town or the farm. But for someone like Harlow Spencer—fuck it, not someone like her, just her—maybe I would let myself give in.
If casual was my only option, I might just take it.
I met her heated gaze, trying to hold myself together. “There’s two guest bedrooms. Have your pick. They’d be more comfortable than the apartment.”
“Maybe I’m attached to it.”
I huffed in reply.
I watched her inhale deeply before her shoulders slumped. “I can’t. I really shouldn’t follow you in there. I’ll get the wrong idea.”
“The wrong idea?” I leaned in closer. “I think I’ve been clear with what I want. Fuck, sweetheart, the sight of you the other day is burned into my brain. I—”
“No.” Blood rushed to her face. “I mean, we can’t keep going on like this because I don’t think I can do casual with you either, Jude.
” My fingers tightened against the wooden railing.
“And if I let myself get a taste…” Her words trailed off into the darkness.
“I should figure out my next steps. See what would be feasible.”
“Feasible,” I repeated the word slowly.
I knew there was something between us—hot, burning fire. But her saying that filled me with the kind of deep wanting that I had no business feeling with someone who was leaving town.
My blood buzzed in my veins and I took a deep breath of chilled air to ground myself.
But there it was, her intoxicating scent on the breeze. The one that haunted the hallways of my house, filled the cab of my truck, and took over my dreams.
She’d stepped closer. “But I have been thinking…” Her hand slowly trailed up over my shirt.
“Even before we spoke about belonging.” Her eyes darted away from mine for a second.
“I do really love it here. I’ve been having thoughts about staying, even if I could never fit in.
But like I said, feasibility, logistics—”
That was the spark of hope I needed.
I closed the space between us before she could finish her sentence. Fuck logistics, fuck planning. I wanted to show her what it felt like to be free.
My lips crushed hers, and her hands wrapped around the back of my neck less than a second later.
She tugged on the ends of my hair, and I groaned against her mouth.
My body leaned farther into her as she craned her neck up.
I grabbed the soft skin of her thighs and lifted her up, so she wouldn’t have to struggle to reach me.
I placed her on the railing without my lips leaving hers.
A gasp escaped her, and I took the opportunity to dive deeper.
It could have been minutes or hours. We were lost in each other’s touch. Nails ran down my back and I was getting drunk on the taste of her. Harlow’s body rolled against mine needily, and I pressed firmly against her to give her friction.
My cock was solid against my jeans as she ground down. She let out a moan into the quiet night.
The sound pulled me away from her lips. I kissed down her neck, leaving a warm stripe against her skin with my tongue in the cold air. Then I tore myself away, almost panting and gripped the wood on either side of her hips.
The need burning inside of me was filled with turmoil.
“We should stop. If you’re not sure, I can’t…” My eyes raked hungrily down her body, her skirt had ridden up as she’d widened her legs to let me between them and her chest was flushed. I gripped the railing tighter. “I won’t be able to keep it together.”
“Maybe you don’t have to.”
I craned my neck, looking away. “I wish I didn’t have to control myself, sweetheart. But tonight, I do. I want you to think about this.” I wanted to give in but I needed her to be sure. So I stepped back and let the heat drop away from my voice. “Stay in a guest room?”
“I should be in the apartment.”
I nodded and lifted her down. “If you are serious about considering something more permanent, I can help with—”
“You’ll be the first one to know, Jude.”
I stood still until her door was locked behind her, then dragged myself inside. I showered, the cold water still not enough to soothe my skin. Coming in my hand didn’t help either. I was restless in bed until morning.
It felt so wrong to crawl back to this empty house all alone.